Centerfold
by Temperance-is -a -virtue
Summary: Brennan follws Angela's advice and does a photo shoot. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

I had to think like a boy for this one. So my brain hurts now. I hope I did a good job. 

"You should do it."

Angela stood over Brennan's shoulder and read the letter again. It had come in with her mail this morning, a letter from a magazine company wanting to interview her.

Simple enough.

But this magazine was _Morgan's_, and _Morgan's_ was notorious for the pictures that usually accompanied the articles. They featured prominent female figures, in more than one sense of the phrase. The pictures were tastefully done with the women donning robes and other pieces of clothing covering their most intimate parts.

"No, Ange. There is no way I am posing in some magazine with no clothes on! How do you think that will affect my image? I am a writer and also a respected figure in forensic science. People's reaction to me will change drastically if I do something like that."

Angela gave her a 'you don't get it, do you?' look. "Sweetie _Morgan's_ doesn't print pictures of you buck naked! They cover you up a bit, leaving out a shoulder or a leg or something. The readers get the general idea and you don't end up in print media looking like a Porn Star. And a lot of respectable women are featured in that magazine, like influential singers, politicians, intellectuals, writers and others. Most women take it as an honour, Bren."

"An honour?" Brennan repeated, "They consider it an honour to bear themselves in the most intimate way to complete strangers? I would do an interview, if they are interested, but I don't think I can pose for them."

Angela sighed. She was going to be difficult about this. In actuality, Angela wasn't as concerned as to whether or not Bren would do the picture, and there was likelihood that the people at the magazine would respect her wish not to be photographed, but it was the principle of the thing. _Morgan's_ was a really good magazine. The women who were featured in it were heroes. And Bren deserved some recognition.

"Ok, let's go." Angela beckoned to her best friend to get up out of her chair. "We're going to the newsstand."

"Why" Brennan asked.

"I wanna show you that it's not anything distasteful. It's a really nice magazine. That really important Senator was in it last month."

"You read it?"

"Sure_. Morgan's_ is the one magazine that you won't be grossed if your man reads it 'cause you read it too. Mostly for the articles."

They went out the door, and Angela took her to the newsstand to buy a copy. It was exactly how Angela said, tasteful and suggestive at the same time.

"So," said Angela, "Will you do it?"

Brennan was reading the article about a zoologist who had studied the Bengal Tiger for 11 years.

"Well, I will consider it. It does seem like a nice magazine."

Angela flashed a winning smile, "Great."

_**THE PHOTO SHOOT goes well and Brennan is featured in an article. The next month she is in the magazine and a copy is delivered to her office.**_

Brennan walked into her office to find a stack of mail sitting on her desk. She ignored it for a second as she looked for a file that Booth was coming to get in a moment. As she found the file, she took it out and placed it beside the stack of mail. Then her eyes caught the blue magazine cover. She took it up to look at the Quantum Physicist on the cover in a tiny black tube dress that only reached her thigh and a come-hither expression on her face. Brennan was almost afraid to look inside for fear of what _she_ would look like.

She opened the magazine, sought her page and was surprised to find…

She didn't look that bad!

She had on a large button up shirt buttoned only at the two last buttons. She was on her back, her legs bent and her hand in her hair in the first picture. It was a bit creepy how good she actually looked, almost like a sex kitten from times gone by. In another picture that took up two pages, she was in a silky red dress that zipped down at the front. The zipper was open halfway. She was lying on a fluffy white carpet with the camera over her.

She closed the magazine and was about to put it in her desk drawer when Angela walked in.

"Hey Bren. Oh wow, is that the magazine?"

"Yes," she leafed through it briefly before Angela snatched it from her.

She found the page in a jiffy. "Jeez, Bren, is that you? Is that _all_ you? I know they air brush and all, but they can't air brush your facial expression, can they? You look…wow."

"The photographer was very good." Said Brennan, "he just told me what to do."

"Sweetie, you look like he told you to meet him in the nearest supply closet."

"I do not! We were a little intimate, yes, but Phillip said that was to be expected."

"Oh, so _Phillip_ said that, huh?" said Angela. "So, how do you plan on telling Booth about your new found career?"

Brennan hadn't thought of that. Booth would probably have a fit if he found out that she posed in a magazine like that.

"I'm not going to tell him. I think he might blow it out of proportion."

"Yeah, he will." _He might blow his top while he's at it_. "So, what are you gonna do, hide it from him?" Angela said.

"It'll be best. And also, Ange, you can't tell Hodgins. Or anybody else for that matter. I don't think it will be the best topic for the discussion in the lab."

Angela almost pouted. She was just about to go to Hodgins about it. She had been holding it in for almost a month while Brennan decided whether to do it. "Fine. But I guarantee you that this will leak out somehow. You'll be water cooler talk by Monday. Somebody in this place has got to subscribe to _Morgan's_."

"So why did you tell me to do it?"

Angela shrugged, "You needed to do it. Wow, my friend Brennan, the Sex Kitten. It fits you."

Brennan rolled her eyes, "Angela, I won't ever in my life let you talk me into anything like this again."

"Sure you will. Now let's go look at those simulations I ran for the hockey player case."

Angela flung the magazine on Brennan's desk as they walked out of the office.

(Now, you all can predict what will happen next, right?)

The magazine sat on the desk untouched for most of the day. It wasn't until Hodgins walked into Brennan's office looking for a pen he had lent Dr. Brennan the day before.

He found the pen and was about to leave when the magazine caught his eye.

"Whoa, who's this hottie?" he said about the woman on the cover. He leafed through the magazine, stopping at the interesting articles, including one about a fellow entomologist. As he skipped through, a familiar face caught his eye.

At first he said to himself that this could never _possibly_ be the same Dr. Brennan that he knew. But how many Dr. Brennans out there worked at the Jeffersonian, were forensic anthropologists, were in the foster care system, wrote books and worked alongside the F.B.I?

Hodgins looked at the picture, spun it around and around. Wow. She had really nice legs.

This was too juicy to keep to himself. He had to tell _somebody_! And Zach took that moment to pass by the door.

He would have to do.

"Hey, Zach!" Hodgins called. "Come here let me show you something."

 Where do I come up with these things? In this case, I was in my bed drifting off to sleep.

So who out there thought that Booth would find the magazine first? So did I, till I realized it would be more fun if he were the last to know.

I want this one to be short because I've been neglecting my other Fan fictions.

The part about the model/photographer connection I read about in a book.

Oh. And I think _Morgan's_ is mine. I've never heard of a magazine like that before. But I really don't think that any amount of persuasion could get Brennan to pose for _Playboy_. And I don't think Angela would ever want her to pose for _Playboy_, either. Nothing against the mag, but Brennan naked would probably give them all an aneurism.


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own Bones. I have many, however, and I've seen a few while eating dinner and on X-Rays. And I have a F.B.I agent under my bed. Yeah, right.

So, this isn't the chapter when Booth finds out, but it is the one where _everybody_ except Booth finds out. 

"That is _not_ Dr. Brennan."

Zach had a feeling that he should be looking in another direction. And closing his mouth. And not thinking about Dr. Brennan on a fluffy white carpet.

But when Hodgins opened up the page that Dr Brennan was on, Zach couldn't help it. His mouth ran water.

"Yes, it is! Who else could it be? The article is talking about her. It looks just like her. But I admit. I never knew she was that…can I say it…sexy?"

"She was alw- I mean she always looked nice," said Zach. He felt uncomfortable talking about Dr. Brennan like that.

"Whoa. Look at this one." Hodgins turned to a page where Dr. Brennan was in a big bathtub, one of her legs hanging off the side. The bathtub was full of soapy water and bubbles, but all Zach could see were her creamy, soapy shoulders. And the expression on her face wasn't helping matters, either.

"Okay. That's it. I can't look at any more," he said. "This is corrupting my thought processes."

"You're right," said Hodgins. "Come on, Hodgins, think Angela, Angela, Angela, Angela…Oh, damn! She's the centerfold. Man, that's hot."

"What's going on?"

The two of them looked to see Dr. Camille Saroyan entering the room. Zach made to move away from the magazine, but she blocked his escape route.

"I didn't know there was a break scheduled. I thought we were all hard at work on the hockey player case. Oh, _Morgan's_. So I guess you two _are_ hard at work."

"No, we're not!" they both defended themselves. Cam smiled.

"Don't worry, you two. I read it sometimes. Is this this month's issue? Oh, this is that Marine I heard about the other-oh."

She saw the page with the fluffy carpet. Zach was convinced that it had now penetrated his pre-conscious mind.

"My, my, this is interesting," she said.

"We saw it on her desk. Okay, I saw it on her desk." Said Hodgins as Zach sent him a glare.

"So, did any of you know she was doing this?" asked Cam.

"No," they both answered.

"She's brave. I got the invitation to do this for next month and I turned it down. Maybe I'll call them…"

Zach made a mental note never to buy _Morgan's_ magazine in his lifetime ever!

"I've got to show this to Dr. Fallon. He has a crush on her. I'll be back." She walked out of the office, the magazine open.

"Zach, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Zach was thinking about how the big shirt Dr. Brennan had on in the picture looked like one he had at home. "That depends entirely on what you are thinking."

"Brennan didn't tell us about the interview. She didn't show us the magazine. We just gave it to Cam. Now Cam is gonna give it to some dude. I don't think Brennan wanted everyone to find out."

That surely got Zach out of his daydream. "We are in serious trouble."

…………..

Dr. Saroyan was so engrossed in what she was reading that she bumped into several people on the way to Dr. Fallon's office. They looked over her shoulder and saw for themselves what she was reading. Soon the newsstand near the Jeffersonian was full of people trying to get their copy. Who didn't get one borrowed their coworker's copy. The news spread like wildfire through the Jeffersonian. So, eventually, it came back to Brennan.

She was walking back to her office and saw several of the male staff staring at her. She guessed it was just her imagination. But when Dr. Fallon, a pathologist, came up to her and asked her out, even though he was engaged, she realized it was probably the magazine. But surely, so many people could not have seen it in less than a day!

She reached her office and realized her copy was missing. She searched and searched for it, but it was nowhere in sight.

She heard footsteps at her door and turned in time to see Zach spinning around and almost running in the other direction.

"Zach?"

He stopped, froze like a child who was caught doing something wrong. When he turned the expression on his face was one of somebody anticipating pain.

"Yes, Dr. Brennan."

"Come here, please."

He walked slowly to her. Very slowly. It took him almost half a minute to get back to the office door.

"Have you seen Booth? He was supposed to come pick this up." She looked at the file she had taken out that morning.

Zach breathed an audible sigh, "No."

When she looked back at Zach, she could _swear_ she saw his eyes rove over her. But that made no sense. She must have been imagining things.

"Okay. So, we have a new lead on the hockey player case. From the trajectory of the wounds, Angela and I concluded that- Zach?"

She had not imagined it that time. Zach's eyes did another sweep over her.

He cleared his throat, "Yes, Dr. Brennan."

"Did you just…no. Zach, are you okay?"

Fear registered in his eyes. "Um, I have some bones to polish. I'm gonna go…"

She held on to his lab coat to stop him from leaving.

"Zach, did I just imagine you looking at me suggestively?"

"Dr. Brennan, I really have to go. Can you please let go of me?"

"No. I want you to explain that very inappropriate look you just gave me."

He turned to look at her. "I…didn't…"

"Zach, don't lie to me."

He was saved by Hodgins' entrance.

"Um…here is an update on what we have so far in terms of the bubbles… case. The hockey player's shirt was…um, I mean his stick was in the bathtub that…Wait, did I say bathtub? I meant…in his locker with the rest of his stuff. But the one that belonged to his friend was full of fluffy white stains- fluffy blood stains- I mean…"

"What on earth is wrong with…?" Brennan started. But her sentence was cut off by the arrival of Angela.

"Can you believe it? Everybody has a copy of the magazine! Everybody's reading it, Bren!"

"WHAT!" Brennan exclaimed.

 I'm a bit evil to do that to poor Zach and Hodgins. And Cam's accidental role in the whole thing was not nice either. Well, I couldn't think of a better way to let the whole Jeffersonian find out. Hm… that was a bit evil too. Sorry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I love them, I cherish them, but alas, I don't own them.

So, once again, this is not the one where Booth finds out. I like prolonging, its fun. 

"But how could this have happened?" asked Brennan, "It hasn't even been a full day yet and everyone has found out about my photo shoot?"

"How did everyone find out so fast?" asked Angela rhetorically. But she got her answer as Zach and Hodgins hung their heads.

"Oh, no. what did you do?" she said, her hands akimbo, looking like the mother of two mischievous boys.

"We- okay I found the magazine when I came in here to look for my pen. And I showed it to Zach. And then we showed it to Cam."

"That's all we did, Dr. Brennan, I swear," said Zach. Brennan was still holding on to his lab coat.

That still doesn't explain how everybody now has the magazine. Surely the entire Jeffersonian doesn't subscribe!" said Brennan.

"Well…Cam took the magazine to show some guy. That's how it may have gotten started," said Hodgins.

"Cam? Cam did this?" Angela looked slightly impressed for some reason, "Didn't know she had it in her."

At the same time, Cam walked in through the door and handed the magazine to Brennan.

"I just wanna say that I think you are so brave to do that photo shoot, Dr. Brennan. They called me too, but I turned them down. I don't think I could do it."

She was heading to the door when she stopped and turned, "I think it's interesting that you can do a headstand. And the fact that you told them about your birth mark is really brave of you."

She went out the door. The silence that followed was penetrated by Zach trying to get away from Brennan's grip on his clothes. Jack was the first to speak.

"So where is it?" he asked. "I haven't reached that far in the article yet."

"Don't you have dirt to look at?" Angela said knowing the term 'dirt' would annoy him. "I'll get these two out of your hair, Bren."

She ushered the two men outside after Brennan let go of Zach.

Her phone rang and she picked it up to answer.

………………..

She was surprised to hear Phillip Scott on the other line.

"Hey, Phillip. How did you get this number?"

"The editor-in –chief gave it to me." He said in his slightly Southern accent, "They wanted me to congratulate you, princess. Your interview and photo shoot were a success."

"Don't I know it," Brennan sat in her chair and swiveled it away from the door. "My coworkers found out what I did and it has been strange all day."

"I can imagine that. You have a really nice body, Dr. Brennan."

"Mind, Phillip. Your wife won't be fond of you complimenting another woman's body." She teased. She had met Dahlia Scott and knew that the young woman was very secure in her marriage to Phillip, despite him meeting beautiful women all day at work.

"Yeah, I know. She just hit me with the dish towel… and she says hi."

"You know if I were her, I would hit you with something harder than a dish towel," said Brennan.

"Is that a promise, Dr. Brennan?"

She laughed.

"You know you said you were nervous when you came in, but I think you're a natural. You calmed down when we got you on that carpet," said Phillip.

"The carpet was very fun. It was a bit irritating but I got used to it. You were over me the whole time."

"Well, the shot was better from bird's eye view as opposed to from the side. The pictures came out a lot better that way. And I guess it's a perk of the job getting to be over beautiful women all day. Ow! Dahlia hit me again. So, I know which shot was definitely not your favourite."

"Oh, definitely the bathtub, Phillip. It was difficult trying to balance my leg on the side of the tub and out of the water. The bottom of the tub was very slippery. And then you kept changing the way you wanted it."

"Sorry, princess. The ones I took first didn't look right. And then _somebody_ kept slipping too far down into the water!" Phillip teased.

"Well, all that lubrication from the soap…what did you want me to do?" she shot back.

"And I know your favourite. The one when you had on the Spongebob T-shirt and the multicolored striped socks with the candy all around you and you hand in the cookie jar."

Brennan smiled, "What can I say, I like candy."

"I wanted to do a very whimsical shot, with you just being silly. And you helped me pull it off, princess."

"Don't call me princess, Phillip." She smiled, regardless of how stern her words sounded. "And yes, that was my favourite. My partner would have liked those socks."

"You really have never watched Spongebob, Dr. Brennan? You're like the only person in the Western Hemisphere!"

"Maybe. But you are not the only person to tell me that Bed Head fits me. I've heard that one before." Brennan replied.

"I'm glad it all worked out well. Oh, Dahlia is asking if you want to come over on Saturday for dinner. Our parents are coming from out of town."

Brennan smiled, "If work permits, surely. I'd love to come to your house."

"So Saturday then?"

"Yes, Saturday."

"See you then."

"Bye, Phillip."

As he hung up, Brennan could not help but laugh. Phillip and Dahlia were a very nice couple. She was glad they wanted to be her friend.

She turned the chair back around and was surprised to see Booth standing at the door, his mouth open in shock.

"Booth," she hoped that he hadn't found out about the magazine yet, but from the look on his face, she knew that was doubtful. "What's wrong?"

He suddenly turned angry, "Whoever this Phillip guy is, you are never to see him again, at least not until I check him out, you understand me, Bones?"

"What?"

"Guys like that are not to be trusted, Bones. I don't want you seeing guys like that!"

 An ill little twist, right?

I know some of you are gaping, wondering what prompted Booth to make that statement. But remember he only heard _**one side**_ of the conversation. Go back and read all of what Brennan said, and you'll get it, hopefully.

Oh, and yes, I did put Brennan in Boothy socks! Ha, ha! That's gonna be crucial later. Oops, did I just give you a spoiler?


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bones. And it tears me up inside every time I have to admit it. Boo-hoo-hoo!!

I can't believe I have not said this before, but THANK YOU!!! To all the people who reviewed! They give me something to look forward to when I look in my Inbox!

Back to Brenny and Boothy!

Relief and confusion washed over her at the same time. Booth's expression, however, indicated she wasn't out of trouble yet.

"So this guy's married, right? And you know this? Yet you're with him? Bones, don't you know anything?"

"I resent that!" Brennan rose to her feet, "Why would you assume…"

"Bones, you let him…gosh, I can't even say it! A bathtub, Bones!"

"Booth, stop assuming…"

"You told me you do that foreplay stuff but this… this is too much! Give me this freak's number! I wanna talk to him man to man! What did you say his name was? Phillip? Give me his number."

"I-I don't have it."

He paused, "This guy is your…whatever he is, and you don't have his number?"

"Booth, Phillip is not my lover!"

"I don't know what these weirdoes call themselves nowadays!" Booth squeezed his eyes shut, as if he were blocking a really graphic image, "Ugh! A bathtub, Bones! That's just too much for me to handle. Whatever happened to beds?"

"Well, there was a bed, Booth," said Brennan, digging herself deeper into trouble, "and a kitchen counter, and a carpet…"

Booth shook his head, "Gosh, that's graphic."

"Booth, you misunderstand. Phillip is my…"

Booth's phone rang. He answered it.

"Booth."

There was a pause as the other person spoke.

"Well, that's what I'm at the Jeffersonian to find out."

His brows drew together.

"Tell her what?"

There was another pause. Booth's mouth fell open.

"Simpson, that's sick!" he hung up the phone.

"What did he say?" Brennan asked.

"He told me…" Booth looked like he was trying to decipher the most cryptic message he had heard in his life. "To tell you… that he especially liked the shirt and that he has one at home. And that you have fabulous legs. Bones, when did Simpson see your legs?"

At this point, Brennan realized that it might be better to tell Booth the truth instead of having him think something worse about her. She sighed, bracing herself for his explosion.

"Booth, I tried to hide this from you, but I realize now that you deserve an explanation from me before you hear it from somebody else. Booth, I…"

Angela burst in, cutting off Brennan's speech.

"Cam is looking for you two. It turns out the friend with the bloody stick was also attacked in the same manner and it was his blood on his stick we found. But we have a new…" she looked from one to the other, "Am I interrupting something?"

"Yes. Bones was just about to explain about Phillip and a bed and a counter top and a carpet and how an agent at the bureau saw her legs!" he looked at Brennan, "Take it away, Bones, 'cause I _really_ wanna know."

Angela smiled, "So you found out, huh? Told you he would, Bren. Anyway, that will have to wait because you're needed by the Angelator."

…………………

Cam, Zach and Hodgins were already by the Angelator when the rest arrived.

"Oh good, Seely's here. So we won't have to repeat." Cam said, "Let's start. What do we have so far, Angela?"

"So, who is this Freakazoid Phillip, huh?" Booth whispered to Brennan, "Is he some kind of weird perv with a candy fetish?"

Booth was blowing this _way_ out of proportion, Brennan realized.

"I know you know better than to get involved with a married man, Bones. His wife can come after you. She _will_ wanna fight, take my word for it!"

"Actually, I don't think Dahlia Scott can take me in a fair fight." Brennan answered him.

"You know her!"

"Hey! You two. Can you join us over here, please?" said Cam.

"Sorry," they apologized.

"So, as you were saying, Angela, the wounds were consistent with a woman of about five feet, four inches, one hundred and twenty pounds hitting the victim with all her strength. Is that what you found too, Zach...Zach?"

Zach was staring at Brennan as if he had never seen her in his life.

"Zach! Snap out of it!" said Booth, "What's wrong with him?"

"Shoulders… I mean what? Oh, the hockey player." Zach cleared his throat and tried to continue, "He was killed by …a woman…" his eyes involuntarily roved over Brennan, "Who um… she um…"

"Zach would you like Dr. Brennan to leave?" asked Angela, not doing a good job of hiding her amusement.

"This is absurd!" Brennan exclaimed, "All of this over a pair of appendages?"

"They're really nice appendages, Bren," said Angela.

"And hips." Jack mumbled.

"And the expression on your face was very arresting. I really don't think I could have pulled it off." Cam commented.

"Wait, what are we talking about?" Booth asked, "It sounds like English, but I'm still confused."

I'm really sorry, Dr. Brennan." Zach apologized, "I tried not to look, but…"

"Will somebody please explain!" Booth exclaimed.

"We're talking about the photo shoot, Booth." Angela explained, "From the magazine."

"What photo shoot? What magazine?"

"Booth, Phillip is a photographer." Brennan said.

"Phillip? You mean that guy you're seeing?" Booth asked.

"You're seeing the photographer?" asked Cam.

"No! I'm not!" Brennan exclaimed, "Booth misunderstood."

"So wait, you're _not_ seeing Phillip?" he asked.

"No, Booth, I'm not seeing Phillip."

"So you're not seeing Phillip. But why were you talking to him about a bed and a bathtub and a carpet?"

"Oh, that carpet," said Zach and Hodgins.

"We were talking about the pictures I took."

"What effing pictures!?"

Brennan grabbed Angela's copy of the magazine, opened it to the page she was on and shoved it into Booth's hands.

"Those pictures! Phillip is a staff photographer at Morgan's magazine. I did an interview with them and they photographed me. The magazine came out today. There, are you happy now?"

 Are _you_ happy now?

No, I guess you won't be until next chapter when we get to see Booth's reaction to the photos!

Did I make his reaction to the Phillip thing too harsh, when he was jumping hurdles to conclusions? Maybe.


	5. Chapter 5

So, I have been leaving you all in the dark a bit too long. It wasn't entirely my fault, my original manuscript got soaked during the thunderstorms the Jamaica has been experiencing all month, and I was writing it over. Imagine me trying to decipher what an ink stain once meant. Therefore without further ado, BOOTH"S REACTION!!! 

"W-when did you do this?" Booth stuttered.

_And did you do it just to torture me?_

There was his partner, his best friend, his Bones, in nothing but a shirt, her hair tousled and her face beckoning him to step into the picture.

"Last month," she answered, folding her arms. As if she was the one that was supposed to be upset. He was looking at a half-naked picture of her, for Heaven's sake!

"That part about you being a cuddler, is that true?" asked Hodgins. Angela rolled her eyes.

"Sully said it to me once," she was still watching him, he could tell. But he couldn't take his eyes off the picture to save himself.

_That carpet looked inviting_, was the wayward thought that entered his brain as he turned the page to see her in a little red dress lying on a carpet. He shook his head to get the thought out. He wasn't supposed to be thinking of his partner like that!

"Is this some kind of inside Jeffersonian joke?" he prayed more than asked. Because there was no way that Bones would make them publish photos of her like this!

Would she?

"No, Booth. I just told you. This is _Morgan's. _They interviewed me and I took some pictures."

"So, these are in _Morgan's._"

"Yes."

"_Morgan's_ the magazine?"

"Yes!"

"And this- this Phillip guy, he took these?"

"Yes, Booth! Have you recently developed a reasoning problem?"

_He looked at you like this_, he thought, _and so will every man with this magazine?_

_Every…single…man?_

He skipped the pages and until he came to a picture that made a very uncomfortable sensation roll all over him.

She had on a large yellow T-shirt that was stretched over one shoulder with Spongebob's face on the front. Her hair was in big Roxy curls. She was on a countertop, her hand was in a large jar marked 'Cookies' and there was colourful candy strewn all around her. The expression on her face was that of somebody caught in the middle of doing something immensely naughty…

But that wasn't all…

She had on his socks!

Bright, multicoloured, striped socks. A similar pair to the ones he was wearing at that very moment!

He let out a shuddered sigh. He couldn't help it. She was in his socks. And her face looked like it was saying, 'I've been rude…punish me…'

He snapped the magazine shut.

"Okaaay… When are we going down to Morgan's to get them to pull this article?"

Her brows came together, "What? Why?"

"You can't let every man in the country see you like this, Bones! Are you aware of how many serial killers, psychos, sexual predators, stalkers," _FBI agents_, "subscribe to this magazine?"

"No. But isn't the point of doing an article about someone that others will read it?"

_Yeah, Bones, but I don't want them reading about __**you**_ Booth thought, _**I**__ don't even_ _wanna read about you!_ _When I go home I'm torching my copy, I swear._

"So, everyone has forgotten about the dead hockey player?" Cam asked. Everyone ignored her.

"Bones, they have professional models to do this sort of thing. They don't need you," he turned past the Cookie Jar picture and came to another shocker, "What the hell is this?"

"That's Bren in a tiny pink baby doll dress with little pink bows on it and really, really high pink open toe heels cooling off in front of an open fridge 'cause she's so hot," said Angela.

"Gee, thanks, Ange. Now you can't let people see you like this, Bones!"

"At least I'm not baring a breast or, even worse, posing stark naked! And for your information, Phillip says I'm a natural model."

"Oh, _Phillip_ says so, huh?" Booth was getting tired of this guy really quickly, "You know, I want to meet this Phillip guy. He really has some warped ideas."

"What brought you to that conclusion?" she asked him.

"Um, THIS?" he opened up the Cookie Jar picture, "Only a sick twisted mind could think of this."

_He is so turned on_, Angela thought.

"I am sure Phillip's mind is no more twisted than yours."

"Why are you defending him?"

"I am not defending him!"

"We are still ignoring the dead guy," said Cam.

"You know what? Get you stuff, get in the car we are going to see your beloved Phillip. I wanna have a few words with him." Booth held on to the small of her back and proceeded to lead her out the door.

"I refuse to go anywhere with you when you are acting so irrationally!"

"Well, tough luck! You come on your own two feet or I throw you over my shoulder!"

She seemed to consider a moment then finally did as he told her.

As the two of them walked through the door, Angela burst into laughter.

"He is so gonna buy a copy." Jack said.

"He doesn't need to!" Angela screamed between her fits of mirth, "He subscribes!"

 I'm sorry to keep you all waiting so long. Hopefully you all enjoyed that part. Join us next time when Booth and Phillip square off!!!


	6. Chapter 6

So, I bet you are all saying Virtue took her own sweet time to tell us about what happened with Booth and Phillip. But the thing was I had school as usual, tests, presentations. I had no time to really tweak this chapter. But I did today and here it is…though I can tell you, if you wanted a Booth/Phillip fight, you will be disappointed.

**Disclaimer:** Bones isn't mine, though a girl can wish. That thing in the last chapter about Brennan being a cuddler, I stole from SSJL. 

They walked out of the Jeffersonian in a huffy silence. Booth was annoyed with himself for noticing that Bones' walk got a little exaggerated when she was ticked off, even through his blinding anger. She got to her side of the SUV and folded her arms.

He pressed the little button on the alarm to open the doors and they entered the car.

"I don't see why _you're_ upset," he mumbled, trying to get the image of her in his socks out of his head.

"I could ask you the same question, Booth!" she spat, "It is really unnecessary for you to talk to Phillip."

"What you don't want me to meet him?"

"That is not what I mean. The pictures look perfectly fine. You just feel the need to exert your alpha-male tendencies for some unnecessary reason, that's what's wrong!"

_What's wrong is that the entire male population of America now has a fantasy with you in it_, Booth thought.

"You don't know Bones. You don't know what kind of people they expect to do these things."

"All of those women are respected professionals in their chosen field!"

"That's beside the point."

"No, it isn't. I am no different from any of the women in this magazine."

_Yes, you are_, Booth thought, _I know you, I see you every day, I have to look into those eyes, the same eyes that looked at Phillip in that way… _

He pressed down on the gas a little too hard.

"Morgan's gives the women in these positions a way to express themselves in a healthy forum. And compared to other magazines, it is very tasteful. Look at this one of me. I'm lying across a bed in a corset and a skirt. In any other magazine, you know what I would have had on?"

He stopped at a stoplight and glanced over. But what he saw made him do a double take.

"Mother of…!" he grabbed the magazine from her.

She was lying across a big four poster bed on a quilt that looked comfy and inviting. The room around her was bathed in warm lighting. They did her make-up to look like the romanticized image of a Spanish lady. Her hair looked longer (done by what we ladies know as extensions) and there was a large red rose at the side of her head. The corset she had on cinched her cleavage until a generous amount spilled over the top. It was made of red silk and had black lace trim. The 'skirt' as she had called it, was not what he would have named the piece of cloth that covered less than what the skirts cheerleaders at NFL games wore. It was made of red silk as well, and was situated over a pair of legs covered with fishnet stockings and red heels.

The image in his mind switched from _Casablanca_ to _Moulin Rouge_.

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. No."

He pushed the magazine back to her as if to get it as far away as possible. He wanted to kill Phillip now.

"Why are you saying no?" she asked.

"Bones, you're…" _beautiful_, "You look like…" _an angel_, "Bones, you didn't do this!"

"Obviously, yes I did," said Bones, "I don't see what the big deal is Booth. They are just pictures."

"They're pictures of _you_, Bones! This has already reached the Bureau! They're probably all going wild over there! What about your publisher, huh? What is she gonna say about this?"

"Seeing that I called her before I did it and she encouraged me further, I would have to say she would still be okay with it."

Booth felt like the world had turned upside-down while he was sleeping. Overnight, Bones had become some sort of sex symbol. Even thinking those words made him queasy. He glanced down at the picture of her and resolved to burn his copy of _Moulin Rouge_ along with the magazine. He couldn't ever watch it again.

The angry beeps from the cars behind him alerted him to the fact that the light had changed.

He pressed even harder on the gas. This Phillip guy was going to get a piece of his mind.

………………………….

He was hugging her too tight.

Bones never let him hug her so tight. Why was this Phillip guy so special?

Booth found himself forming fists as he watched the two of them.

Phillip had spiky black hair, shining blue eyes and a goatee. He also had a smile that Booth had a feeling every woman would fall to her knees over. He was also huge; muscles were straining against the purple T-shirt he had on.

Booth wanted to kick something. They had been hugging for at least a minute and a half. Finally he let Booth's partner go.

"So, what brings my princess to me today?" Phillip asked.

"Don't call me princess, Phillip," said Bones. Her smile turned to a frown as she looked back at Booth, "This is my partner that I told you about, Special Agent Seely Booth. He was the one who dragged me here. He has some questions about your work."

"Oh! So you're the partner!" Phillip smiled and stuck out his hand towards Booth, "Phillip Scott, at your service. Any friend of the princess is a friend of mine."

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Booth ignored the hand, "What the hell are these?"

Phillip looked at the bed picture Booth held up. "Oh! I love that picture. She looks so innocent and yet so playfully sensual. The romantic lighting and the make-up is sophisticated, yet the…"

Booth cut him off, "Dude, I don't give a damn. What I'm concerned about is the fact that you have turned my partner into some…" he could hardly say the words, "sex kitten."

"There is _nothing wrong_ with the pictures, Booth!" Bones shouted in a vain attempt to make Booth stop acting like a jealous boyfriend.

"Have you looked at her lately? She's a sex kitten all on her own!" said Phillip.

The comment got him a playful slap from Bones and a murderous glare from Booth.

"Hey man, I'm just kidding. She did say she understood the way our magazine was formatted. We do these sorts of photos all the while. They aren't meant to be overly raunchy and I don't think that Dr. Brennan's photos are in any way."

"No, they aren't Phillip. Booth is just asserting his alpha-male tendencies. He feels the need to protect me, even when it's evident that I do not need protection." Bones glared in Booth's direction, but he missed it because he was glaring at Phillip.

"If it makes you feel any better Agent Booth, we do these shoots with the utmost professionalism. And the photographers that work here have even been awarded. I myself received an award for the work I did with Lauren Baker, the young opera singer."

The look on Booth's face changed, "The one with her riding the Merry-Go-Round in a bikini? I have that issue at home!"

"Really? So you actually read the magazine?"

"I subscribe to it! I love the girls in there each month. You guys always find some strong smart girls who look damn sexy too!"

"Do you remember the ambassador Marianne Harper? She's the one that…"

"Had only a towel on in the steamy shower. I have that one too. It's one of my favourites…"

"WHAT!"

The two men looked at Bones. She was boiling with anger.

"You mean to tell me that you have no problem with these other women, but you have a problem with me taking pictures?!"

"Well of course!"

"Why?"

"Because, Bones you're my partner! I'm the one who has to see you every day!"

Bones' brows drew together, "That makes no sense, Booth."

"Sure it does!"

"It isn't like you are going to see me in a corset or a tub of bubbles every day!"

"No, but that is going to be the only thing on the mind of every perp we catch from now on, you in a corset and a tub of bubbles!"

"That makes no sense either!"

Through the entire exchange, Phillip had been smiling.

"Dr, Brennan, can I talk to your partner alone a second?"

"What are you going to do?" she asked him."

He smiled, "I just wanna set him straight."

She seemed to think that was needed, "Okay,"

"Listen," Booth said as the door clicked shut, "She is my partner and all I'm doing is looking out for her…"

"Agent Booth, you have the hots for your partner!"

It wasn't the first time he had been accused of it. But he didn't. He _didn't_!

Not that he didn't see why guys would think Bones was hot. He was a red-blooded male, after all. She was beautiful, of course, he'd be an idiot not to see that. But that didn't translate to him having intimate feelings for her!

It was the pictures that were the problem. The pictures were just too much. Who could handle Bones in a shirt alone, with legs going on forever; in a bathtub full of bubbles; on a comfy looking carpet; wearing a tiny dress that looked more like a fancy blouse; in _fishnet stockings_ and a _corset_, for crying out loud! With a look on her face that made you want to be in the picture with her…

"Hey! You still with me?"

"Yes. No! I do not have the hots for my partner! I'm more worried about you."

"_Me_?"

"You think I don't see the way you look at her, how you hug her? How you make her look in those pictures? It's like you're in love. You're a married man, Phillip. I'd mind myself if I were you."

To his surprise, Phillip laughed and sat on his desk.

"You know, my wife," he handed Booth a picture of a pretty woman with raven black hair as he spoke, "would be very interested to hear you say that. She always asks me if any of the boyfriends or husbands of the women I photograph ever accuse me of having feelings for their wives or girlfriends. She'd be very interested to know that the first person to accuse me doesn't even like the woman!"

"Who says I don't like her?" said Booth, before he began to ramble, "I like Bones, I love her! - Not in the way you think I mean, I mean as a friend, we're just friends, nothing else. And that is the way we both like it, especially me. I don't have any feelings for her at all. Except the friendly ones, only friendly ones… Wipe that smile off your face, I didn't say anything funny!"

"You know, as a subscriber, you get a free poster with your issue. I really hope you enjoy it," said Phillip. That moment Bones walked back into the room.

"Sorry, but Hodgins just called me and said he has something interesting to show us with regards to the hockey player case. We have to go back to the Jeffersonian. What's wrong, Booth? Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"

He tried to return to normal, but the impact of what Phillip just told him had hit hard. A full size poster. With Bones on it. He really had to set up a bonfire when he went home, to purge this whole thing out of his system.

"Let's go, Booth. Nice to see you again, Phillip."

"Love you, princess. And remember the dinner on Saturday. You can bring someone if you want."

"We'll see." She was out the door.

Booth made to follow, but suddenly turned to Phillip.

"I do not have the hots for her, got that?"

"Okay, man I got you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

Bones came back into the room and dragged Booth by the jacket, "We have to go."

The door closed behind them, leaving Phillip alone to let out a big laugh.

 That thing at the beginning, where Brennan's walk got exaggerated when she was ticked off, that's me. The thing is I walk normally, according to my friends, like I'm auditioning for Caribbean Model Search. And when I'm really not in a good mood, my walk gets really wild, the way my guy friends like it.

Okay, I will stop making up pictures after the poster. Seven pictures are way too much.

So, you know the drill, REVIEW!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** If I ever got the chance to own Bones, I promise to share it with all my friends on andFanfiction dot net and tv dot com! So, it has come. The end of a beautiful story. Yes folks, I have to end it here, because (as usual) TVObsessee is right. Hi! (Waves to TVObsessee, with a big grin on). Here we go. 

She pulled Booth into the elevator with her and pressed the button for the ground floor, avoiding his gaze as much as he was avoiding hers.

She knew she should not have been listening at the door. But she knew Phillip had a way of saying exactly what was on his mind and she was curious as to what his view on the whole Jealous Booth situation was. She had heard when Phillip told Booth that he had the hots for her. Not being entirely sure what that was supposed to mean, she pressed her ear closer to the door to get Booth's reaction to what Phillip had said.

He did not sound at all comfortable.

He started accusing Phillip of being the one 'hot' for her. Even though she wasn't a believer in psychology, she noticed the accusation as a defense mechanism. It became worse when Booth started to babble. Then he blurted out that he loved her.

Though he said right afterward that he meant as a friend, her heartbeat doubled at his words. Booth loved her, and even though she didn't really know if she loved him back, it was a good to know. If she were any other person, she would have been doing a happy dance outside the door.

When Hodgins called and she answered her phone, she missed the end of his and Phillip's conversation. And then when she walked in, he was looking at her as if he had just seen his dead granny. What could Phillip have said to let him look at her like that?

"What was Phillip talking to you about?" she played dumb.

"Nothing," he said under his breath. The elevator car was filled with silence for a while. Then Booth spoke again.

"You know that guy he's…I don't like him. When you go to his house on Saturday, I don't want you to listen to a thing he says about me, got that? He has got a really weird imagination. Saying all that…none of it is true by the way…"

"What did he say?"

"Nothing! Why do you keep asking? I'm not gonna tell you."

"Alright. I won't ask." She already knew anyway.

The elevator car returned to silence. It was just getting comfortable when Booth screwed it up.

"Did you do that sock thing on purpose?"

She looked at him, but her mind was on the moment when the wardrobe lady asked her if she felt she would be comfortable in the T-shirt alone. She had seen the socks, played around with the idea of wearing them, and told the lady her idea. She hadn't even thought of Booth.

"Sock thing?" she played dumb again.

"You know what I mean, Bones. There is no way you didn't think of me as you put them on. I mean, they look exactly like mine."

_No she didn't!_ She did not think of him. Much.

"Well, I will not lie and say that there is a similarity between the socks I wore in that picture and the ones you have on now for instance. But that does not mean I meant them as any sort of symbol." _She was not lying!_ _She was not lying!_

He was about to say something else as his phone rang.

"Booth."

He listened to the person on the other line without saying a word, then hung up the phone.

"Director Cullen wanted to congratulate you on an impressive job on the magazine article. And he said that the pictures were impressive. He also wanted to talk to you…"

His eyes grew wide as he looked at the phone.

"Crap! I think have just hung up on my superior!"

Her eyebrow rose, "Uh oh."

"But he was talking about you in that voice! It was sick, I…I had to hang up! You see Bones; this is the sort of thing I'll have to protect you from for the next month until the next issue comes out!"

Why was he so protective of her? Anybody with eyes could see that she was very able to protect herself. And now he had possibly gotten himself into trouble for it.

Was it because he loved her so much- as a friend? She knew that human beings have it in their nature to protect and take care of the people and things they love. She guessed she was appreciative, though that didn't deter her annoyance.

"You don't have to, Booth. I'm perfectly…"

"What do you mean I don't have to? You want me to stand by and watch while guys like Phillip and Simpson, and possibly Director Cullen, hit on you?"

"Phillip does not hit on me! And I didn't even talk to Simpson or Director Cullen! You did!"

"Exactly! I save you from all that!"

"Don't blame your Alpha Male tendencies on me, Booth. Hopefully now that you have possibly gotten yourself into trouble over it, you will stop your foolishness."

"What am I doing that's so wrong, huh?"

The argument continued as they got off the elevator and into the car and all the way towards the Jeffersonian.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

A/N: "She found out he loves her and she didn't completely flip out? Holy Mackerel!" That is what some of you must be saying. Well she still thinks he loves her only as a friend, so maybe that's why. Isn't this story just full of misinterpretations?

………………………………………………………………………………………….

Hodgins had found traces of blood in the dirt around the body that had not belonged to the victim. It had however belonged to his ex girlfriend Gwen Jameson. Since she had told Booth that she was at a figure skating meet the weekend her ex had died, though there was no evidence to show she had been, they realized that she was in fact the one who killed him.

"I wouldn't have guessed it," said Booth as he and Brennan walked up to the front door of Gwen's home, "She just looks so sweet and innocent. With that curly black hair and those big cheeks and the cute smile. She couldn't hurt a fly!"

"Actually I read that figure skaters are because of the fierce competition in their sport very aggressive and short tempered." Brennan said as she rang the doorbell, "There was a case in the nineties where one ice skater allegedly hired an associate to attack another and break her leg with an iron…what? Why are you smiling?"

"You know about Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding?" he asked.

"Yes. Is there something wrong with that?"

He grinned wider, "Bones, that's pop culture! I mean, that whole case was in the media for months. Everybody was talking about it! You knew a piece of pop culture and you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't realize…"

"The front door swung open and a man in a sweater vest, square-rimmed glasses, Dockers and loafers came out.

"Hi. How can I help you?"

"Good afternoon. I'm Special Agent Seely Booth and this is my partner…"

"Dr. Temperance Brennan!" the man cut him off. He was staring at Brennan like she was the birthday gift he was wishing all year for. Booth sighed. He knew exactly why.

"Sir, we are here to speak to your daughter, Gwen. Can you…"

"Dr. Brennan I have all your books! I'm such a big fan of your… work." Gwen's father went on, "I am glad that you did that spread in the Morgan's magazine. I finally got to see your- your um- face."

"My picture is on the back of the dust jacket of all my books," said Brennan, confused as usual.

"Yeah, it is," Gwen's father looked Booth's partner up and down, like a vulture scoping out a sexy piece of carcass. Booth would have been more than happy to hold him by the neck, slam him into the wall and point his gun up his nose if he didn't see a head of curly black hair sprint across the lawn.

"Gwen!" Booth shot after the young woman, hurdling over a fence to chase her.

Brennan turned to Gwen's father, "Mr. Jameson, we have to take your daughter into custody in relation to the murder. We have reason to believe it was her who…"

Mr. Jameson smiled, "Would you like some nice lemonade, Dr. Brennan? Gwenny was just making some before she took off. Come in sit down. My casa is your casa."

He led her to the couch and went to the kitchen to get her lemonade. When he came back and gave it to her, he watched silently as she took a sip. She decided to ask him some questions that may help in the case since he was being bizarrely hospitable.

"Mr. Jameson…"

"Please" he smiled, "Call me Adam."

"Adam," she humored him, "Do you know where your daughter was on the night of the murder?"

"What murder? Oh, that hockey guy she was seeing. She went out, said she had stuff to do. Didn't tell me where. You know, I subscribe to Morgan's magazine and I saw your interview. In that picture when you were on the bed, was that all your real hair?"

If Brennan had been IM literate, she would have typed across the computer monitor of her brain _WTF?_ She was here talking to this man about his daughter's current arrest, and all he could think about was her in fishnet stockings.

"Adam, you do realize that Agent Booth is trying to arrest your daughter. She will be brought in for questioning and if she is found guilty she could be put in jail for murder."

Adam was nodding his head, his eyes on her with the pretense of listening keenly to her words. But she realized he was basically blocking them as he nodded.

"So, uh, the first picture. I wanna know, do you have on anything under that blue shirt?" said Adam.

In a few seconds, he would regret asking her that.

"Excuse me?" Brennan got up off the couch.

"Um, just an enquiring mind. I just thought I'd ask since you're here."

"I'm here to arrest your daughter!"

"Yeah, yeah. I know. She's guilty as hell. She was jealous that he was becoming more successful than her. So about the blue shirt. I have one upstairs. Do you want to try it on?"

He didn't even know what hit him. In two seconds flat he was face down on his carpet, with Brennan twisting his arm painfully.

"I think you should apologize to me, Mr. Jameson. That was uncalled for."

"Yes! I apologize! I'm sorry!"

"I really hope that this is not how you treated your wife, and if so, then I do not blame her for leaving you."

"Dad?"

Brennan turned to see Booth coming through the door bringing Gwen in handcuffs, "Bones, what are you doing?"

"Twisting Mr. Jameson's arm."

"Why?"

"He made an inappropriate comment to me."

"Oh," Booth said. "Bring him along. We may need to talk to him."

Brennan pinned Mr. Jameson's arms behind him and dew him off the floor. He and his daughter were loaded into the SUV and carted off to the FBI.

………………………………………………

He stood there for what seemed like forever, looking at his mail in his mailbox. He didn't want to see his mail. Mail meant his subscription to Morgan's was here. In that magazine was his partner in a way that he really didn't want to see her, because it did irreparable damage to his insides.

He tried to see if there was any way he could get his phone bill and letter from his Portuguese pen pal from around the magazine. But there wasn't. He had to take it up or forever miss his mail.

He took a deep breath, chastised himself for being the world's biggest wuss, and dragged the magazine out of the mailbox. There! That wasn't that bad. Practically painless…

The magazine fell open.

Whew! She wasn't on that page. It was some lottery winner who used her money to feed the homeless. Interesting enough. He found himself reading it. She had won with her very first lottery ticket that a friend had dared her to buy. She didn't think she needed the money as much as the hungry and homeless people in her former community. How nice. He turned to a two page picture of her. How _very_ nice.

A piece of paper fell out of the middle of the magazine. He bent to pick it up and realized a millisecond before he opened it what it was.

His eyes widened as he looked at the poster. The very one he was trying to avoid.

Okay. Now he was upset. He took up his car keys and marched out the door, meaning to have a word with Temperance Brennan.

…………………………

Booth's Portuguese pen pal. Now who could that be? Could it be fortune kookie 91, or xXMelissaXx or HellboundGirl? Hmmm I don't know…

Okay, hold on a minute. The last chappie had to be split in two. It was too long.

So that button down there can wait till the next part if you want. Or you can press it now. PLEASE PRESS IT NOW!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**

_Roses are red_

_White, y__ellow and pink_

_Do I own Bones?_

_What do you think?_

She needed to talk to Seely Booth.

He had said he loved her. She needed to tell him that she loved him too. But not _in love_ with him. She loved him like he loved her. As a friend. She felt the need to tell him that, and maybe that she wasn't totally resentful of his over protectiveness, even if it was annoying.

She drove up to his house and took a big sigh. This shouldn't be this hard! He was her friend and she loved him. How does one put that in words?

"You're my friend and I love you? I love you for being my friend? I love you in a friendly way? I love you, but not like _that_just as a friend?"

She decided to wing it.

She knocked at the door, just as her phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?"

She looked at the door like she could see him through it, "At your door."

"But I'm at your door."

_Cowinkidink, as Angela would say. _

"Meet me at the diner. I need to talk to you."

"I want to talk to you, too," she stopped herself one decibel short of sounding like a teenage girl talking to her boyfriend.

She hung up, jumped in her car and drove off to see her boyfriend-um, partner.

……………………………………..

She got there before him and sat down to wait. What did he need to tell her? Could it wait until she got this off her chest? She ordered a glass of lemon iced tea and drummed her fingers on the table in anticipation. Then she saw him come in. '_Yay__!'_ said her heart as he strode up to her. She saw the frown lines on his face as he came closer, and her heart said, '_Darn__…__'_

"What in blazes is this?" he said so loud the whole restaurant turned to see when he unfolded the poster. He stood over her as she studied her own image on the paper.

They had used the picture of her on the beach, her hair a little bit wet from the sea. She was in a purple and silver striped shorts bikini, a matching necklace and a smile. She was lying on her back in the sand, droplets of water and sand on her skin. The scenery in the background of the blue sky and sea and a tiny island out at sea was beautiful. Actually, it was the least alluring picture of her that Phillip had taken.

"It's me on a beach, Booth. Honestly I can't stand your overprotectiveness at times."

She made to turn the poster over, and immediately regretted it. There was another poster on the other side.

"Wait, hang on. What's this?"

On the other side was the picture she had taken in a crisp white shirt, black vest, Fedora hat tilted to one side over a low bun, a pair of teeny tiny black Spankies, special stockings with a rose pattern running on the sides and really high really uncomfortable shoes. She was straddling a chair.

"What in the name of St, Peter is this?!"

Oh no. Brennan closed her eyes. He was way past overreacting now. He was downright crazy.

"It's a poster, Booth. I didn't realize that…"

"That as we speak little horny teenage boys are pasting this poster over their bed heads?"

Now what was that supposed to mean? There was nothing wrong with the poster. As posters went, it was quite tame. At least her bust wasn't hanging out and she wasn't in some suggestive pose. He should have been happy; she could have done much more suggestive poses than this!

"Why are you so angry Booth?" she asked him outright. He was acting like he was the father of one of those horny teenage boys…

…Or he was one of those horny teenage boys.

She dismissed the thought. "Answer me Booth."

He looked at her, blank, "Are you serious? Aren't you the least bit concerned that your image is now going to conjure up thoughts of…"

"Go on," she urged.

"This is sick, Bones! You're an anthropologist!"

"There was a paleontologist on the poster last month." She stated the fact.

"He rolled his eyes in impatience, "I know that! I don't care! She's not you!"

Her eyes narrowed, "So it's me on the poster that you have a problem with?'

"Yes!"

"Why?'

"Because I'm the one who has to see you every day! I'm gonna to see you, and I'm going to remember…"

She never thought she would say it, even in her own mind, but she realized this may be a job for Dr. Sweets.

"I don't follow," she said.

"Never mind, Bones. Just…never mind"

He turned and stalked out of the diner. Then he turned back and grabbed up the poster.

"Give me that," he said, turning to leave again.

……………………………………………..

"So, he just walked away?"

She was relating the story to Angela the next day. Through the whole thing her mouth was open.

"Yes. It was as if he had something weighing heavily on his mind. I don't know what it could possibly be."

Angela giggled, "I think I know."

Before she could ask her best friend what she thought that was, she was interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

"Hello," she answered.

"Hey, princess."

"Phillip," she saw Angela heading towards the door wand waved to her to stop.

"Dahlia wants to confirm the guest list for Saturday. You still in?"

She smiled, "Absolutely. I'm coming."

"Great. Is that jealous partner of yours anywhere around?"

"No, he isn't. Phillip, I want to apologize. He is sometimes…"

"Oh, it's okay. It's understandable. I'd get jealous too if I were in his position."

Brennan's eyebrows scrunched together, "What position?"

"Never mind. Hey, I should tell you, my cousin, Seamus, is coming in from Ireland. He's coming to the dinner too. So, you know, fix yourself up pretty for him."

Brennan laughed, "I will."

"See you."

"Bye Phillip."

"What was that about?" Angela asked her.

"Phillip was just telling me that his cousin was coming to the dinner on Saturday. Seamus. He's from Ireland."

"Oooooh, Ireland," said Angela, "So do you have something cute to wear to the dinner?"

"Well…I'm not sure."

"What! We are going shopping now, Missy. You got to wear something really cute. What if this Seamus guy is hot?"

"Wait Angela, you don't understand…"

"I don't wanna hear it! We are going shopping."

She pulled her best friend through the door.

Hodgins and Zach were taking advantage of the leisurely span of time between cases by trying to race water beetles, which was not as easy as racing their regular beetles. Their noses were pressed up against the aquarium as they watched the bugs zoom around in the water.

"What are you two doing?"

Booth sounded so much like Cam that the two of them stood at attention at the sound of his voice.

"Whoa man, don't scare us like that," said Jack, letting out the breath he was holding. He looked back into the tank and saw his beetle swimming in a relatively straight line.

"Hey! I'm winning!"

"Where's Bones?' Booth asked.

"Oh, she just took off with Angie. They're gonna but something for her to wear to some dinner Saturday night," Jack watched the progress of his beetle as he spoke, "She has to impress this guy named Seamus."

"Seamus?" Booth didn't hear her say anything about any Seamus!

"Some Irish guy. That's all Angie told me."

"I wonder what she's trying on…" said Zach, barely loud enough for Jack and Booth to hear.

"Me too," said Hodgins,

Zach looked at him, "I'm not talking about Angela."

Jack smiled cheekily, "Neither am I dude."

"I'm going to be so glad when this is all over," said Booth, "Do you know where she went?"

"Nope," Hodgins answered, "They took off so quick, I didn't get a chance to find out."

"You're having curious fantasies about Dr. Brennan too?" Zach asked.

"Ever since yesterday. Those pictures, man," Jack answered.

"Can you two stop talking about my partner like that?" said Booth, who had very recently been picturing himself on a beach with his partner, "It's just not right."

"You must have a very strong will, Booth," said Zach, "For those pictures not to affect or arouse you in any way. I tried, but all I can think is…"

"Thighs," said Jack.

"Among other places," Zach blushed.

"I'm leaving!" said Booth, who was blushing too, "You two are a pair of sick, twisted, perverted nuts!"

He exited the Medico-Legal lab, contemplating his partner's thighs in a way that Zach and Jack didn't see them.

In a pair of rose-pattered stockings.

………………………………………………………………………

It was Saturday night. All day three things ran through Booth's mind.

Bones in suggestive clothing.

Bones in the arms of some guy with a thick accent named Seamus.

Shooting Seamus.

Now he was making himself a tuna sandwich. He had already cut it into halves. And quarters. And eights. And sixteenths.

Now a perfectly good sandwich was thirty good finger sandwiches.

He growled. It was Seamus' fault that his dinner was ruined while he was probably eating a four course meal and putting his hands all over Booth's partner.

The doorbell rang and he almost shouted that he wasn't here before he realized that was dumb.

He went to the door, swung it open and took in an eyeful of his partner.

She was in a black shirtdress, unbuttoned to reveal a red camisole underneath. A little red belt cinched in her waist. The shoes she was in reminded him of the ones on the poster he still had in his drawer upstairs. He stared at them for a moment.

"Booth?"

"Hmm?"

"May I come in?"

He stepped aside so she could come in. he tore his eyes away from the little tick of her waist as she walked across his living room.

"Why are you here, Bones?" he asked, "Aren't you supposed to be at Phillip's house?"

"He said I could invite somebody."

"So…? Oh."

"Do you want to come to the dinner with me, Booth?"

The image of him sitting at the table, pushing his peas around his plate while Seamus told tales of Ireland and Bones hung to his every word were not what he planned for the evening.

"I thought that Phillip wanted to introduce you to his cousin _Seamus_," he realized how jealous and stupid that sounded only after it came out.

"Oh, please Booth, how much do you think I would have in common with a Catholic priest?"

"Phillip must think you two have a lot in…wait. Did you say Catholic priest?"

"Yes, Booth. You're just like Angela. She presumed that Phillip was setting me up with his cousin as well."

Booth felt like a heavy weight was suddenly lifted off of him. He breathed deep and let it out. Seamus was a priest. No chance in hell with Bones. _Yippee!_ his heart said.

"so will you come to the dinner with me?" she asked again.

"Sure Bones! What are friends for? Lemme go change." He almost skipped to his room with happiness.

"Wait."

The word was laden with emotion. He could tell she had something important to tell him.

He turned. "What's up?"

She walked over to him, put her arms around his middle and hugged him tight.

"I heard you tell Phillip that you love me…"

"What?" he breathed. Oh no. he hadn't meant it like that. Of course he loved Bones, but only-

"As a friend."

"Oh." He sighed in relief, "I said that."

"And I just want to tell you that I love you in the same way…as a friend."

His heart rate quickened at her confession. So he wasn't the only one. She loved him too. Just as friends. Well, that one was obvious. It wasn't like he had deep underlying feelings for her that he was trying to avoid. He put his arms around her and took a deep breath, smelling her shampoo.

"So it's clear. I love you and you love me. As friends."

"Nothing else. And there is nothing wrong with that! Is there?" she asked.

"Not a damn thing."

He held her a little while longer. It felt good, just to hold her and not say anything.

"Booth?'

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Bones."

"Are you still coming to the dinner? There's gonna be roast chicken."

He laughed, "Aren't you vegetarian?"

"But you aren't."

He let her go and walked toward his room, "Sometimes I think you're living out your carnivore side vicariously through me."

He got ready and jumped in her car. And the two of them took off to Phillip's house, glad they got half of their feelings off their chest.

………………………………………………….

For all who are wondering (small minority) why I chose the name Seamus, it's because Seamus Finnegan is one of my favourite non-main characters in Harry Potter. And also the Irish are cool. I met a few during Cricket World Cup last year.

Was that as good for you as it was for me?

Well, if it isn't, I'm sorry, because this is definitely the end. Finish. Finito. El fin.

Thanks for sticking with the story! And reviewing!


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